Feast of All Spirits
The Feast of All Spirits was a time-honoured tradition that all in Europa, be they Gallian, Imperial or Darcsen, celebrated no matter the circumstance. War be damned. As such, everyone in Fort Amatriain did what they could to celebrate the day's passing.
The small shops near the fort were practically flooded with men and women looking to purchase gifts for the ones they loved or secretly harbored a liking to. Some tried their luck at the requisition's office, hoping to convince one of the officers working there to ok a 'special request' of procuring chocolates or premium cigars, or if one were daring enough; jewelry. There were also those who lacked the will and funds to procure item through official and unofficial channels, and thus resorted to relying on their imagination and utilized unused spare vehicle and weapon parts or junk to make something hand-made to give out. These attempts usually ended up with some horrible abomination of steel, spent bullet casings and wires.
In the winding hours of the day, when the sun was close to setting, one lancer by the name of Vincent LaCross was making his way to the mess. He had the forethought of finding a good gift long before the Feast; a fancy silver bracelet in a decorated box he found buried beneath the rubble of a what was probably once a jewelry store in Bruhl. It was ingrained with a floral motif, with the visage of a Lion's Paw on the center. It was a nice piece of work and something Vincent would admire whenever his squadmates were too busy to notice him in the background. Vincent didn't have anyone special to give the bracelet to on the Feast, and he was originally planning on trading it with one of the more desperate personnel on base for something of equal value, like a crate of those new Thermite lance warheads R&D just cranked out or a box of canned tuna from the cafeteria. There was nothing desperate people wouldn't do for a pretty looking bracelet like this on the day of the Feast.
He was a few minutes from the mess when he caught sight of a familiar figure sulking on a low wall of sandbags. Concerned, Vincent quietly approached and plopped himself on the wall beside the figure, making him jump in surprise.
"Vincent!" Walter McGuil exclaimed. "W-wha-h-how did you-"
"I can be stealthy whenever people aren't focused." the large young man answered. "So, what's gotten you so down?"
"Uh, n-nothing! Nothing's wrong! Nope, nothing at all!" Walter laughed nervously, hoping his squadmate would buy the excuse.
Vincent stared at him blankly. He stared long and hard, to the point where the smaller youth fidgeted underneath his gaze. His sisters called it 'The Stare', a look that could weedle out even the most well kept secret if applied long enough. Against someone as shy as Walter...
"Okay! Okay! I'll tell, just... Stop it with the stare..." He pleaded, eyes mirroring those of a sad puppy's. "Please..."
Vincent nodded in approval and gestured for the Scout to continue.
"It's..." Walter sighed. "It's about the Feast. You know that the colonel and a few other CO's are working to throwing a big party outside the main building tonight, right? Been planning for it for the last few months, I heard." Vincent nodded. "Well... It's the Feast of All Spirits, right? Everyone getting together to give gifts a-and c-c-confess their love and... Well, you know! And I, kinda, have someone in I want to... Ya'know! To... To..."
Walter fell into a flustered silence then, too embarrassed to continue. Vincent nodded in understanding. It was one of those situations, was it? The lancer stood and propped his hands on his hips.
"Who?" the simple question made Walter splutter and turn redder than a tomato.
"I-I-I-It's too e-embarrassing! I can't-! I mean-!"
"Then let me ask another question." Vincent crouched low, eye level to Walter. "Is she on our squad?"
Walter hesitated, twiddling his thumbs. "...M-maybe?"
The lancer nodded, understanding the young Scout's hesitation. That was all he needed to know. Vincent rose to his full height and, faster than Walter could blink, threw something at the Scout. His instincts, honed through countless engagements on the battlefield, kicked in and he caught the object mid-air before he could think. Walter blinked once, twice, then peered into his hands and marveled at the decorated box he held. He looked at the lancer, askance. But the larger fellow merely smiled and nodded to the box. Taking his word for it, Walter opened the box and gasped, quickly closing it and looking back up at Vincent.
"Vincent, I-" Vincent raised a hand, the smile on his lips growing.
"You've got your present." he jerked his head over in the direction of the personnel barracks. "Go get her."
There was confusion on the Scout's face for a few moments, then he brightened and rushed to his feet. "I'll pay you back Vince, I promise!" he said, but his feet were already moving. In moments, he was gone, lost amidst a throng of people preparing for the big party. Vincent sighed and crossed his arms, looking over to where the sun was setting.
Eh, he could always get the canned tuna later.